Home and the park, separated by a wall, I developed the ability to climb walls from a young age.
Although I was never athletic, I was trained by my friends to climb up and pull down. From then on, I embarked on various climbing adventures.
I climbed over the hospital wall, climbed over the roof, and explored construction sites. Looking back today, I understand why children love to go to places that adults consider dangerous. It turns out that it is the anticipation of the unknown.
After various efforts and methods, when I finally reached my goal; when I saw a scene I had never seen before; the fear, regret, and annoyance I had just experienced all disappeared; the joy made me uncontrollably shout into the distance.
When my mother gave birth to my younger sibling, I was sent to my grandmother's house. I quickly forgot the sadness of being separated from my mother and became one with the children in the neighborhood. I suddenly realized that no matter the environment, there was always a child who could dominate and command admiration.
My grandmother and two aunts spoiled me, and I truly lived a comfortable life. The only downside was that I had to follow behind the other children and develop new skills. Catching worms, stealing corn, roasting wheat grains, being chased by mother hens, and pecked by ganders; I did my best and quickly became darker, shedding my shy and timid appearance.
On summer nights in the countryside, everyone would come out to sit under the streetlights and enjoy the cool breeze. The fans would sway up and down, driving away mosquitoes and moths. Various flying insects would hover around the yellowish light, and laughter would occasionally come from the crowd. My grandmother sat among the crowd, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, occasionally looking around, her gaze searching to ensure the safety of her eldest granddaughter, whether she was being bullied. The summer nights were so peaceful and cool.
I always tried to escape her gaze and enjoyed secretly observing her slightly panicked calmness.
My escape finally taught me a memorable lesson.
One evening after playing various games, a friend suggested: "The adults are all at the front door, let's go to the house of someone with a bad temper and get some food, let's challenge ourselves."
The reason was that her house had a plum tree, which was currently full of purple fruits. They had chickens and ducks, and now there were also ripe tomatoes and cucumbers. But what made me hesitate was that she also had two pigs, which were dirty and smelly creatures to me. Being afraid of the dark, I hesitated, fearing that everyone would look down on me. I could only nervously follow behind and sneak into the yard. Before I could figure out what was happening, everyone suddenly started running. The pigsty in front blocked our way, and one by one, my friends climbed over it. After gritting my teeth and stomping my feet, I finally fell in. How did I get out? What did the adults and children say? My mind was completely blank. Under the moonlight, the people who were enjoying the cool breeze had already dispersed, and I was left alone repeatedly scooping up water and pouring it down.
This is a funny story from my childhood. I can explain the "beginning" but I can't remember the "end".
My grandmother was the essence of every summer in my childhood. She would pick the best cherries from the two cherry trees in front of the house and have someone bring them to me. She marked the beginning and end of my summer vacation.
I was sixteen when I saw my grandmother for the last time. Afterwards, I could only get news about her intermittently from my mother's phone calls. She was an important person in my childhood, but due to studies, work, and family, I found various excuses and never had the opportunity to visit her again.
On the day of my departure, I cried as if I knew something, very sad. My grandmother was in good health, but I knew I had to go to a farther place to study, and I didn't know where I would live. It would be extremely difficult to come back again, and I didn't know when we would meet again. The uncontrollable future made me cry bitterly. However, my grandmother told me, "Don't cry, don't cry, crying doesn't look pretty! Say 'goodbye' with a smile. When I think of you, you are a beautiful little girl."
With tears in my eyes, I looked back at my smiling grandmother waving goodbye from my uncle's car. Gradually, she disappeared from my sight. Just like on the road of life, I was reluctant to leave, but I had to. Leaving behind a smile at the moment of separation, the memories that followed would always be beautiful.
My grandmother passed away at the age of ninety-six, and I am now in middle age.
When we parted, her face was full of smiles, the most precious inheritance from my ancestors.
Thinking of her, her face is still filled with the years, radiating a warm smile.